All He Really Needs(63)

She wandered down the block for a few minutes before stopping in front of a house with an impenetrable line of privacy shrubs hiding it from the street. Near the street, the branches of a massive live oak dipped low to the ground. She sank to the ground in the shade of the tree, grateful to be at least somewhat shielded from anyone passing by. Then she dug out her phone and pulled up the maps app. She dropped a pin at the current location and then asked for directions back to her own house. Three point eight miles. It might as well be twenty-three point eight. Yes, it would be possible for her to walk home from here, but she just didn’t have the energy. She called Tasha.

“Hey, what’s up?” Tasha asked. “That lazy boss of yours isn’t sick again, is he?”

Sydney had intended to calmly ask for a ride home, but the instant she heard Tasha’s voice, the whole story poured out.

“I’m going to kill him!” Tasha said indignantly when the story petered out. “I’m actually going to kill that jerk.”

Despite herself, Sydney let out a strangled laugh. “I don’t think—”

“No. Really. I think we should kill him. Between you, me, Marco, Jen and George, that’s what…five of us who grew up in the foster care system before ending up with Molly. Surely one of us knows someone who grew up to be a professional hit man, right? I’m guessing Jen. She was always the toughest.”

Again, Sydney laughed. “Yeah. It would probably be Jen. But don’t call her just yet. What I could really use now is just a ride.”

Tasha snorted. “Honey, I got in the car as soon as you called. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Thirteen minutes later, Sydney climbed into her foster sister’s beat-up Chevy. Tasha wrapped her in a brief hug before putting the car back into gear. Tasha was a crappy driver who talked too much with her hands. This was probably the first time they’d ever been in the car together that Sydney hadn’t spent the whole drive fearing for her life. Today she simply felt too numb.

For the first five minutes of the drive, Tasha plotted Griffin’s murder in grisly detail. Because she was in her final year of law school, most of the discussion was about how to get away with it. Eventually, she had Sydney laughing so hard she was crying. And then just crying.

When she finally looked up, they were in the parking lot of a strip mall. Tasha had killed the engine and was frantically digging through the car’s glove compartment for a tissue. Finally, she held out an old napkin.

“I really can kill him,” Tasha offered.

Sydney blew her nose. “That won’t be necessary.”

Tasha looked down at the dash and swallowed visibly. “I’ve never seen you cry before.”

“I don’t know that anyone has.” Sydney stared down at the mangled strap of her purse. She thought about saying more about Griffin—because she’d cried in front him, but that had been right after they’d had sex and she didn’t really think he’d noticed. That should have been a sign right there. But her throat closed over the words. So instead she said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do about my job.”

“You know he can’t get away with that crap. He can’t fire you over any of this. We’ll sue his ass. We’ll—”

“I don’t… I know I could totally sue him. And maybe I should. For justice or whatever. But I don’t really think that he’ll fire me. He’ll come to his senses and realize he can’t get away with it. But I don’t think I can go back to work there anyway. I can’t see him every day.”

“You could—”

But she shook her head. “Even if I found another position in the company, I’d still know I was working for him. I don’t want that.”

And here it was, reason number one why sleeping with her boss was a bad idea.

For a few long seconds, she was painfully aware of Tasha studying her. Then Tasha said fiercely, “You’ll get another job!”

“In this economy?” Sydney shook her head. “It could take months. Yeah, I have my savings, but—” She broke off because her savings weren’t all that extensive. She’d helped three of her four foster-siblings with college tuition, but the last thing she wanted was for Tasha to feel badly. “Hey, I can put the house on the market. I’ll need to find an apartment that allows cats, but Grommet and I don’t need all that room. It’s a great little place in a great neighborhood. I’m sure I can—”

She broke off again, this time because Tasha was chuckling.

“What?” Sydney demanded.